Remember Me
by Lavender Wonder
Summary: Sequel to 'Tell No Lies'. On 'The Black Pearl', things seem pretty peaceful…but peace never lasts, at least in the life of Captain Jack Sparrow. Will he be able to survive when his enemy is…himself?
1. Chapter 1: Dark Horizons

A/N: …And here it is, the long 'awaited' sequel to _Tell No Lies_. is proud to have the first chapter out before exams I hope you like it…please keep in mind though that because of exams, which you all know blow, the next chapter might not be out for a little while longer…so please be patient. Also, thoughts are in _italics_ and Jack's dark thoughts are in **_bold italics_**. Also, if you haven't read _Tell No Lies_, it's a good idea to read it before this. Ya know, just for background info.

Disclaimer: Stop depressing me. I do NOT own Pirates of the Caribbean; it belongs to Disney. I do NOT own Johnny Depp, though I wish I did…he belongs to himself. The only things I own related to this fic are the plot, my character Tristan Jones, Port York, and any other OC which pops up in here, which I shall inform you of immediately in future disclaimers. The only things I own otherwise are my POTC DVD, my dog, computer, my imagination, and a few bucks in my pocket. So no sueing, savvy?

Summary: Sequel to _Tell No Lies_. On _The Black Pearl_, things seem pretty peaceful…but peace never lasts, at least in the life of Captain Jack Sparrow. Will he be able to survive when his enemy is…himself?

**__**

Remember Me

Chapter 1

Dark Horizons

The day started out fairly normal, in pirate terms. _The Black Pearl_ sailed regally across the ocean blue, with few clouds covering the hot, powerful sun above.

Everything seemed pretty calm from a bird's eye view, but things were never 'calm' aboard _The Black Pearl_. With a loony pirate captain, an easily tense blacksmith, a pregnant woman, and strange pirate crew onboard, it could hardly be 'calm'.

At that time, shouts could be heard from the captain's cabin.

"You idiot! You can't do _that_!"

"Yes I can, dear William. I do know how to play poker, ye know."

"Well, you obviously don't know how to play fair! You're cheating!"

"Well, what do ye expect from a pirate? Besides, ye have no proof, mate,"

"You just admitted it, Jack!" Will shouted in exasperation.

In the past four months since Will and Elizabeth had decided to stay on _The Black Pearl_ after the incident with Jones, little had changed. They were still living on the ship with the loopy pirate and his crew, having not found any place 'suitable' to settle down. But another reason they hadn't settled down anywhere was because they were fond of the adventures they had on the ship, even though they didn't really enjoy the prospect of raiding other ships. But they would eventually need to find a place for a very important reason- Elizabeth was pregnant (which caused Jack to make many remarks about Will perhaps not being a eunuch after all). Because of this, the blacksmith had been a bit more stressed and snappish, not wanting anything to befall his wife and their unborn child. Hence the short temper and agitated disposition around Jack and the rest of the crew.

"Technically, I didn't," Jack answered, pointing a ringed index finger at the lad. "I just said pirates cheat, which is a fact. _But_, I never said anything about meself cheating, savvy?"

Will let out a frustrated groan, and dumped his playing hand on the table. "That's _it_. I'm not going to play cards with you when you're just going to cheat the whole time."

"Well, if yer worried about that, what the bloody hell are ye doin' on a pirate ship?'

Will let out an angry roar and stood up, stomping off towards the door. "Damn dumbass pirate," Will muttered under his breath.

The blacksmith was about to exit when Jack threw a pillow from nearby at Will, which hit him square in the back. It didn't hurt him at all, but it made him even angrier.

"Captain!" the pirate spat, "Dumbass pirate _captain_!"

Will swirled around to face the eccentric man. "Do you even realize I just insulted you?" he asked in exasperation.

"I do realize it," Jack replied calmly with crossed arms, "But if yer gonna insult me, at least do so by my proper title!"

"You are hopeless!" snarled the enraged blacksmith, stomping out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

"But I still outrank ye!" the pirate captain shouted back to Will's fleeting form. When silence followed, Jack simply shrugged to himself. He reached over to collect the whelp's cards and skimmed over them. "Hmm, too bad he ran off; he would have won,"

---

Will dashed furiously over to the side of the ship, a growl growing in his throat. He leaned over the side, shutting his eyes closed tightly, trying to calm himself. He really had no reason to be mad at his friend; Jack was just being himself. But Will had been so stressed out lately that he could find no other way to vent it out.

The blacksmith breathed in deeply, and to anyone who was looking at him they would have thought he was seasick. Well, in a way, he was-- but not in the vomiting way. _God, I'm going to be a father,_ he thought in amazement, _And that means I have to be thinking of my child's future…he, or she, can't grow up on a pirate ship. We have to find a town to live in soon._

Will looked up at the beautifully sparkling ocean. _…But I can't keep it out of my life completely. I hate to admit it but…I love the ocean. My child will love it, too…damn pirate blood, _he laughed a little at that, standing up straight. _But we still can't live on a pirate ship. I at least want my child to have morals. _With a small sigh, the soon to be father turned away and sank down to his knees. _God, this is all one huge headache, _he thought wearily, bringing a hand to his forehead. _I'll at least have to apologize to Jack for my rudeness…and give Elizabeth some attention as well. She must hate being fondled so just 'because she's pregnant'._

But the young man want to be calm before seeing anyone else as to not have another outburst, and wanted to have a proper apology thought out in case he ran into Jack again. Will closed his cinnamon brown eyes, breathing slowly and steadily, his thoughts wandering. Without his own consent, he fell asleep in that position on deck, around the same time Jack fell asleep in his cabin as well, darkness rising throughout the sky as the sun fell into a deep slumber in unison, dark clouds and the moon taking its place.

---

It wasn't long before Will woke up with a start. It wasn't due to a bad dream or any of the crew stirring him, but a load crash of thunder enveloping the area. The young man perked up immediately, standing up with a jolt. How long had he been asleep? It was pitch black, the moon barely lighting shadows…due to the fact that dark gloomy clouds blanketed it and all of the stars in the sky. There was a chill in the air, strong gusty winds blowing up Will's shirt and making the sails of the ship dance. Then, the rain fell.

As if on cue the whole crew swept up on deck, shouts of alarm and panic echoing in the blacksmith's ears. They immediately went to work to keep _The Black Pearl _stable in the treacherous storm.

"Will!" The soon to be father whirled around, whether of his own free will or because of the winds it was hard to tell. He wouldn't have recognized the figure as Elizabeth, if not for the sound of her voice.

"Elizabeth!" Will called back, his voice barely making it over the howls of the storm. Will flew towards his wife, said women barely able to keep balance as she ran towards her husband. Will grasped firmly around the woman's waist, but gently as to not hurt the growing baby inside.

"You shouldn't be here, Elizabeth!"

"I had to find you!" Elizabeth had to shout back, a clap of thunder overriding her voice, followed by a few seconds of light from a lightning strike.

In that moment the blacksmith looked around himself. He saw the crew working at the sails and other tasks to keep the ship afloat. He saw Gibbs, Ana-Maria, and Mr. Cotton…then finally Jack, who had forgotten his coat, hat, boots, and effects in his cabin, sprinting towards the helm of the ship.

"Jack!" Will called out as darkness fell once more, with more claps of thunder drowning out all noise. At that moment, the lad knew one thing- he had to get to Jack. Knowing the pirate captain, he would stand by and protect his ship even if a tidal wave crashed down on them. He had to make sure Jack would be safe.

The blacksmith squinted his eyes in hopes to catch another glimpse of Jack, but didn't see him again. He knew the general direction of the dedicated pirate captain, so he would have to hope for the best in his search for him.

Will turned his head to where he thought Elizabeth's face would be, "Elizabeth," he addressed slowly, "I'm going to go get Jack. I want you to tie yourself to one of the ship's masts. Alright?"

"No, I can't, I won't leave you!" the young woman argued in a pleading voice.

"Elizabeth, please, you have to," the lad was to yell back over the roar of the storm in a worried and panicked tone, "Please…for yours and our baby's sake."

The soon to be mother was silent for a moment, Will simply staring back into her eyes as the barely visible moon reflected off them. He couldn't tell if it was rain or tears in her eyes.

"A-alright then," Elizabeth answered softly in defeat.

Will would've smiled if he didn't have other things on his mind. They pushed against the treacherous wind, the blacksmith feeling his way around the deck. At one point the couple were nearly blown over, but it wasn't long before the young man's wandering hands clamed a rope. He wrapped one end around the ship's mast, and tied the other end as gently as possible around Elizabeth's waist. After he was done his task, the lad looked into his wife's eyes, which were filled with sadness and regret. Will knew she wanted to help-- but he wouldn't let her get hurt. The blacksmith hugged and kissed her one final time before dashing away.

At that moment the winds got fiercer. Elizabeth watched her husband run off, another stroke of lightning flashing by and illuminating the area. She felt so helpless just standing there, holding onto the ship's mast while everyone else risked life and limb to make sure _The Black Pearl_ didn't capsize; she hated that feeling.

Even though she knew Will wouldn't like it, the pregnant woman wouldn't allow this feeling of helplessness survive for long.

---

Looking at him, people would have thought Jack had finally gone mad, with a wide grin plastered on his face as he struggled to control his ship's course. But that was actually not the case-- he was so drenched with rain and with the wind blowing directly on him, he was freezing cold and his teeth were chattering uncontrollably. His hands grasped onto his ship's helm so tightly they were tinged blue. At that point the pirate captain decided he hated storms.

Light flashed by across the sky and it rumbled with thunder angrily. Jack would have laughed at its rage insanely if not for the fact that his teeth wouldn't stop clattering together. In that instance which the sky was lit up, he saw someone running towards him from the side-- Will.

The pirate frowned as much as his frozen face would allow. With him just walking around like that, the blacksmith would surely get swept up in the storm, or worse, washed overboard.

"Honestly, lad, why can't ye just refrain from doin' somethin' stupid?" Jack croaked, "Ye shouldn't be over here! Go back to--" the pirate was cut off by a sudden clap of thunder, lightning attacking the sea for a full 15 seconds. In that time the wind picked up and one of the sails the crew was trying to secure gave way, sweeping in the wind and dropping over Will like a fly.

"Will!" Jack gasped; the buccaneer gave his ship's helm one last fleeting glance before dashing after the young blacksmith. When he reached him, the pirate wrestled with the blanket of fabric. He swam his arms about, desperate to find his companion. Suddenly, he felt Will's arm, and he pulled him out from the prison of sails.

They tumbled to the ground in a heap painfully, a gust of wind blowing them over. They both rapidly sat up, Will shaking his head and Jack rubbing his own.

"Ugh, Jack," the frazzled blacksmith groaned, "You have to get to safety. You can't be at the helm the whole time or…"

"Don't be lecturin' me, whelp," the pirate snapped irritably, "Follow yer own bloody advice!"

"Jack, if you would just listen--!" the young man was cut off when the ship gave a sudden dangerous lurch, sending the pair toppling over again and near the edge of the ship. Will smacked against the side, sending rainbows across his vision. Will wrapped his arms around the wooden edge unconsciously, just as the ship lurched again, anchoring himself to prevent the blacksmith from falling off _The Black Pearl_.

When it seemed like the winds had calmed down momentarily, Will opened his eyes, realizing for the first time that he had clenched them shut. "Jack?" he called, his voice suddenly hoarse.

Silence. "Jack!" Will yelled more urgently.

"Aye!" Jack's seemingly distant voice echoed back. Will looked around, trying to locate his friend.

"Where are you?" the blacksmith questioned loudly.

"In a…very awkward position," Jack called back, "Try lookin' overboard!"

"_What?_" Will frowned, feeling dread creep into his stomach. The young man stood up and turned around swiftly, leaning over the ship, his eyes squinted.

Will couldn't help but gasp when he saw Jack barely a foot away, dangling off the side of _The Black Pearl_, his fingers holding him tightly for dear life. The blacksmith wasn't able to make out his expression due to the shroud of darkness, but he could hear the pirate grunting as he struggled to hang on.

"Oh, god!" Will yelled out, racing towards the pirate. He reached forward and grabbed Jack by one of his wrists. "Grab my hand!" the blacksmith ordered urgently, holding out his other hand.

The pirate complied; leaving him suspended in air with only the young man as his support.

"Hold on!" Will grunted, planting his feet on the slippery deck. He then started to pull, but found it hard to pull his friend up. "What the hell are you wearing, anvils?!"

"It's the wet, whelp," Jack growled back through his chattering teeth, his eyes squinted, pushing down the urge to yell out in pain from Will's harsh pulls, "It weighs me down!"

"Well, I hate--" A sudden gust of wind sent to soon to be father toppling over and towards the ocean-- "STORMS!!"

He and Jack were about to fall completely off the ship and towards the sea when someone suddenly grabbed the blacksmith's shirt from behind. Will regained his balance and glanced back, only to see Elizabeth's drenched face.

"E-elizabeth!" sputtered Will, "I thought I told you to stay where it's safe!"

"Well, it's a good thing I didn't, or else you'd be shark food now," his wife shot back crossly.

Will couldn't argue with that, and for a moment he just stared at her, his mouth slightly ajar.

"Um, William, now's not the time to gap at 'Lizbeth's beauty," Jack called with a wince, "I'm sort of slippin'--!"

The pair averted their attention back to the pirate, and immediately leapt into action; Will got a firmer grip on Jack's hands, and with Elizabeth holding him around his waist, proceeded to pull the captain onboard. They slowly inched back, teeth gritted in strain and concentration; the pirate's body slowly came into view. Jack was almost completely on the ship when another huge gust of wind swept them forward. With a surprised cry, both Will and his wife flew forward, while the pirate in peril fell back down, the young lad now only holding Jack by a hand. Will was half off the ship, the other half struggling to be held in place by the pregnant Elizabeth.

Will was gripping Jack's hands so tightly his knuckles were a ghostly white, and Jack winced in half pain, half fear for their lives. At a time like this, the pirate's voice decided to abandon him.

"Don't worry, I won't let go, Jack," Will called out in a strained voice.

"Lad, don't get yerself killed ove' me," the daft man half-whispered in a grim voice.

"What do you mean?" the blacksmith asked, confused.

"By the look of things, either meself or the two of us are headin' to meet ol' Davey Jones," Jack explained, his head bobbing back and forth to make up for the fact that he couldn't use his arms and hands to emphasize his words. "An' believe me, one of us can't risk dyin'…one of us has a future…besides, I belong to the sea an'…"

"Stop trying to be noble, it doesn't suit you," Will snapped suddenly.

"I'm not tryin' to be noble, just tryin' to refrain from doin' somethin' stupid," the pirate countered, "Think about it, whelp; if ye die, Elizabeth has to raise yer unborn child all by her onesies. She'll be heartbroken…and the young'un will be fatherless. Do you really want that to happen, Will?"

Within moments, the blacksmith's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Jack didn't want what happened to Will, happen to the baby. Growing up without a father was horrible…it was not an experience he wished to have his child endure.

But he couldn't let his friend die either.

"No, Jack, we'll be okay, we'll make it out of this," Will argued.

"Whelp, yer doin' somethin' stupid that rewrites the very _definition_--!"

"I'll never let go!!" the desperate blacksmith bellowed with sincerity, eyes shut tightly.

The clap of thunder that followed didn't make anyone feel any better.

Jack was somewhat shocked by Will's statement, his kohl-rimmed eyes wide and expression taken aback. A heartbeat later he recovered and narrowed his expressive optics. "What makes ye think I won't let go then?" he asked softly in a dangerous voice.

"Because…you value your life too much," Will answered, "Your ship, your friends, Ana-Maria…you have too much to live for, even if you can't always see it,"

Jack let his head hang back loosely, almost in defeat. "How 'bout we just stop arguin' and save it for after ye 'save' me?"

With great relief, Will cracked a smile at his friend. The blacksmith looked back and called out to his wife, "Pull us up!"

The pregnant woman immediately reacted; Will attempted to grip his numb hands tighter around Jack's, said pirate doing the same, as Will's wife dug her feet into the ground, teeth gritted and breathing through them harshly, and began pulling her husband and friend onboard as hard as she could.

Will was soon completely on deck, the pirate captain inching closer…closer…

None of them were prepared for the wave of ocean water that hit them, Will especially. It fell over the entire ship like a bad omen, engulfing any screams that may have been heard.

Since most everyone were tied to the ship by some spare rope, including Elizabeth, they really only got drenched.

But Will, who was 'Jack's rope', did the worst possible thing In surprise and fear, he let go.

Jack let out a sharp yelp in surprise when the blacksmith let go. As Will and Elizabeth flew across the ship, he plummeted towards the sea. Other than the yelp, he was silent for the fall, in shock, his arms and legs flailing. His life seemed to flash before his eyes, all within 5 seconds…his mother, who he had only seen in paintings since she died while giving birth to him, his father, his whole career as a pirate, the last few years, his friends…

No, it can't end like this, he thought desperately, _I don't want to be remembered this way…_

You shouldn't be remembered at all. Look at everything you've done…do you really deserve it?

Jack shook the thoughts from his head. _Of course I need to be remembered! I'm Captain Jack--_

The pirate hit the ocean with a great splash, and everything around Jack got even blacker than before very quickly when his head slammed against the ship while under water.

…Sparrow.

---

It took a moment for Will to regain his bearings. Stunned and sluggish, he shook his head and looked around. "Elizabeth?" he called out in a slur of dizziness.

"I'm fine," his wife answered back from beside the young man, "But where's Jack?"

Will froze, suddenly feeling awake and very numb. He glanced down at his hands, almost expecting to see the pirate holding them. _No…I…let go…_

Will leapt to his feet and dashed to the side of the ship. Thunder sounded in the distance. Will grasped onto the railings and leaned his head over. "Jack?!" he bellowed in despair, "Jack?! Jack!!" the only answer he received was the continuous rumble of thunder and a flash of lighting, sparking light and reflecting off the empty ocean, dark blue waves splashing against the ship. The short glimmer of light shimmered on Will's face, illuminating his wet, tear streaked face, full of despair and frustration. "Nooooo!! Jaaaaack!!" His cry was once again engulfed by thunder, lost to the sea just like the pirate captain.

To Be Continued…

A/N: Did anyone else see a hint of Titanic in this? Oo;; Please don't kill me. I love my Jacky-poo, too. I do appreciate reviews, though…;


	2. Chapter 2: Stay and Drown

A/N: Thanks a bunch for the reviews so far! :D Means a lot to me when I check my email and see such nice comments from you guys… Anyway, replies to ye guys are following the chapter…just cuz I don't wanna waste your time. :P Also, 'Stay and Drown' is a song by Finger Eleven…if you want the lyrics, listen to the song.

Disclaimer: Stop depressing me. I do NOT own Pirates of the Caribbean; it belongs to Disney. I do NOT own Johnny Depp, though I wish I did…he belongs to himself. The only things I own related to this fic are the plot, my character Tristan Jones, Port York, and any other OC which pops up in here, which I shall inform you of immediately in future disclaimers…oh ya, and I own the postman. No touchy. The only things I own otherwise are my POTC DVD, my dog, computer, my imagination, and a few bucks in my pocket. So no sueing, savvy?

Summary: Sequel to _Tell No Lies_. On _The Black Pearl_, things seem pretty peaceful…but peace never lasts, at least in the life of Captain Jack Sparrow. Will he be able to survive when his enemy is…himself?

**__**

Remember Me

Chapter 2

Stay and Drown

"But…this isn't right," Will Turner argued slowly, somewhat taken aback, "We have to find Jack. He's still out there…I know it,"

Three months had passed since the day of the storm and Jack's fall overboard. Nobody had seen the pirate captain since then, not even a trace.

Search parties went out in hopes of finding their fallen captain, using _The Black Pearl_ herself and other 'commandeered' ships to lead the searches. But still no sight of him. Still, Will insisted on continuing the search, hope of finding his friend still glimmering inside him.

But that hope had long since faded from the rest of the crew.

"Will, listen to yerself," Gibbs reasoned, "We've been searchin' for months. If Jack was…was…" He trailed off for a moment, "…he would've shown by now,"

"Ye have Elizabeth and yer kid to worry 'bout," Ana-Maria interjected, "She's what, six months pregnant? Ye have to worry 'bout the future, not the bloody…past,"

Will could tell by Ana anf Gibbs' tone that Jack's disappearance had taken it's toll on them, but they still tried to be brave. But even knowing this Will felt he still had to shake his head. "But I can't. Not yet…Jack's still alive."

Gibbs frowned and let out a frustrated sigh. "Lad, please, ye have to let it go--"

"How can you abandon your captain like that?" Will argued, feeling a twinge of rage build up in him, "After all you've been through? I thought the pirate's code didn't mean anything to you!"

"We're not abandoning him if he's dead," Ana snapped, her voice choking as if on the verge of tears, "Don't make us feel guilty. We tried, the whole crew did, an' we just can't find 'im…"

Will grinded his teeth together in frustration. The blacksmith couldn't believe what he was hearing, or didn't want to. Jack _had_ to be alive…he couldn't deal with the guilt if he wasn't.

"Well, I'm not giving up," the young man said firmly, "I'll find him, with or without your help, you'll see!"

Will was about to turn around and storm off the deck of _The Black Pearl_ when Gibbs briskly grabbed onto his arm. "Listen to me, Will," the old man stated, "Go ahead and search for Jack, we ain't stoppin' ye…but don't expect to find 'im,"

The young man pulled his arm roughly away from the old sailor. He dashed off deck and ran into Jack's old cabin blindly, slamming the door behind him.

The blacksmith leaned against the door, on the verge of hyperventilating; he had to calm down, think clearly, not be angry with Gibbs and Ana, they cared about Jack, too…

Care. They care _about Jack, _Will thought firmly, _Jack's still alive, he has to be, he can't be dead, he _can't_…_

Will looked around the cabin with panicking eyes, taking in every detail. He had left everything just as it was the day Jack fell overboard, not even daring to move a pillow, as to keep it in place for when Jack returned. He even left the cards that were sprawled across Jack's wooden table, the very cards that he and Jack had fought over whether the pirate had cheated or not. His stomach knotted every time he thought of it, feeling great guilt wash over him. Barely any hope was left in the blacksmith at this point, and wondered if preserving Jack's cabin for his return was in vain.

The blacksmith slid to the ground in defeat, his head falling to his knees. He covered his eyes with his sweaty hands and started to choke on dry sobs. _Jack…please don't be dead…I will find you…I promise…just don't be dead…_please_…_

---

Two months passed by. Will had since found a more permanent place for Elizabeth to live on shore while he went and searched for Jack at sea in, which was strangely located in Port York.

In that time, Elizabeth had been looking outside her window every morning and night, awaiting her husband's return. In the back of her mind, she wanted to go out and help the blacksmith search for Jack, since she actually felt guilty for Jack's disappearance as well, even though she didn't voice her guilt often around Will, as to not make him feel worse. But her husband had insisted that she stayed behind in their new home. Knowing that everyday her stomach grew with the child inside, she didn't dare risk both of their health and obeyed.

Elizabeth was spending her day worrying once again. But at present, she was reading, feeling very lonely, and hoping that her husband would return with Jack in tow, so she wouldn't be worried and lonely anymore…

That was when she heard a knock at the door. Feeling her heart hop into her throat, Elizabeth leapt up, disregarding her book, and dashed for the door, ready to hug her husband, who was surely there to greet her--

--But met disappointment when she pulled the door open, only to see the face of a postman.

Her face sagged and her heart fell back into her ribcage and all the way to her stomach in sadness. "Yes?" the young woman said wearily.

"Beggin' yer pardon, miss," the postman with messy black hair greeted politely, "But I've got a letter fer a Mr. Turner…"

"I'm Mrs. Turner, so I'll take it," she answered halfheartedly, snatching the letter from his hand and slamming the door grumpily.

"Yer welcome!" she heard the disgruntled postman call back, but she wasn't paying attention; she ripped open the letter and read it over, a look of shock overcoming her face.

Dear William,

I'm sorry to be contacting you on such short notice, but I heard of Jack's fall overboard; My apologies to you and your wife. I feel it is my responsibility to help, for reasons you should know, and I intend to help you find him. I hope when you get this letter to find it in your heart to trust me, for I am truly sorry for the pain I have caused you in the past. It is in my best hopes to find him, and I think your wife would deserve some more attention if the rumours of you going out on your own to find Jack were true. 

Captain Tristan Jones

Meanwhile, miles and miles away, on a completely different island, two men _didn't_ want Jack to be found…and they would make sure that he wasn't…

---

Five months earlier…

He was very wet. Cold, wet, and numb. Everything was black. He felt the sensation of cool salty water graze his face and left side, making him feel even damper.

The sound of seagulls cawing in the distance urged him to slowly slide his eyes open into slits. The bright, burning light of the sun hurt his eyes, only adding to his now realized splitting headache. He grimaced at the pain, closing his optics tightly once more, and with a groan rolled from his back to his side.

Then he attempted to open his weary eyes again, this time fully. In front of him was endless hot sand, palm trees decorating it and making it seem more eternal.

He moaned and squinted his eyes shut, his headache throbbing. _Where the hell am I?_ He thought groggily.

He slowly sat up, his balance questionable. He shook his head to clear it, not daring to shed his eyes open again. _OK, think back. What's the last thing I remember?_

The man took in deep breaths, trying to concentrate on recalling something before waking here…anything…only to draw a blank. No matter how hard and how long he thought, he couldn't remember anything before waking up on the beach.

Panic began to rise in the lost man's chest. _Do I at least know my name?_ He thought desperately, closing his eyes tighter in concentration.

My name is…it's…my name…is…my…name… He breathed out in defeat and frustration. _I don't even know my name. Lovely. Who the hell am I?!_

He shook his head, trying to remain calm. _OK. So I don't know where I am, how I got here, or even who I am. But when will I remember…_if _I remember? And what do I do in the meantime?_

The lost man sat up completely straight, opened his eyes again and looked around. He was definitely on a deserted island, only the ocean and some palm trees to keep him company. _Well, _that's _interesting,_ he thought sarcastically.__

He shivered, feeling strangely uneasy about the situation, more so than he should have. _Well, if I have any survival skills in the back of my head, I better put them to work…_

__

To Be Continued…

A/N: Wow. This was definitely one of the shortest chapters for a story I have ever written. ; But now to the replies:

Pendragginink: Oh my god, lmao to your review. XD Your comments made my week…but to clear some things up for you, when I said the wet was weighing Jack down…_he_ said it, and he's not always right...But what I meant was, it's his hair. And Will's kind of in an odd position, half hanging off and trying to drag 'im on board… nod, nod **. **Also, when Jack said he didn't want to be remembered that way, he had kind of 'reconsidered' because he had thought of what he had done with his life, and realized he wanted to do more. Plus he would have rather have 'died' in a raid or fight or something, not just ungracefully falling overboard. ; Sorry if I didn't make it clear for you.

Jackfan2: I'm very glad you enjoyed it...apologizes for the long wait! ; scurries away before Cap'n can hurt her for hurting Jacky-poo __

Lunatic: Also glad you liked it…and now that my exams are over, chapters should be out a whole lot sooner. bows

Also many thanks to Savvy-Rum-Drinker, Kuramasgirl556, Michelle, TrappedAndAnnoyed, and October Skye for reviewing! See y'all next chapter! :D


	3. Chapter 3: When You Least Expect It

A/N: Apologies for the long wait, friends…a little thing called life keep bothering me whenever I tried to scrawl down something. I hope this chapter doesn't seem rushed; Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Stop depressing me. I do NOT own Pirates of the Caribbean; it belongs to Disney. I do NOT own Johnny Depp, though I wish I did…he belongs to himself. The only things I own related to this fic are the plot, my character Tristan Jones, Port York, and any other OC which pops up in here, which I shall inform you of immediately in future disclaimers…oh ya, and I own the postman. No touchy. The only things I own otherwise are my POTC DVD, my dog, computer, my imagination, and a few bucks in my pocket. So no sueing, savvy?

Summary: Sequel to _Tell No Lies_. On _The Black Pearl_, things seem pretty peaceful…but peace never lasts, at least in the life of Captain Jack Sparrow. Will he be able to survive when his enemy is…himself?

**__**

Remember Me

Chapter 3

When You Least Expect It

When Will next entered his house, a few days after Elizabeth had received the surprise letter, he was greeted by being tackled by his lovely wife.

Elizabeth hugged tightly around her husband's neck, holding back tears of mixed emotions. "Will!" she breathed, "Oh, Will, you're home! D-did you find Jack…?"

Will shook his head gravely. "No, I didn't, but I had to come home…so I could see your beautiful face,"

Elizabeth looked up at him, sadness laced in her dark brown eyes. "Will," she said softly, "A couple of days ago I got a letter…a letter for you…"

The blacksmith's eyes widened with curiousity. "Where is it?"

The pregnant woman left her husband's arms to retrieve the marked paper. She gave it to Will and he read it over. Over the course of reading it, the young man's expression twisted from curiousity, to fear, then to confusion and doubt.

"What? Jones is going to look for Jack?" he asked himself aloud in bewilderment. He staggered over to a chair at the main dinner table, feeling a huge weight overpower him. "But…why? Can we really trust him to help? He wanted to _kill_ Jack not too long ago…"

Elizabeth frowned to herself as well. She had heard about the pirate, and seen him once or twice, but she didn't really know Jones; _could_ he be trusted?

The young woman bit her lower lip, and addressed her husband slowly. "Maybe he means well…he seemed pretty upset about what he had done when I saw him,"

Will looked up at his wife, and let out a slow breath. "You don't know what he was like before, Elizabeth," he explained, "He was…twisted, sadistic, willing to kill Jack by any means. Even if he doesn't hold a grudge against Jack now…" The blacksmith shook his head. "He hasn't earned my trust, I can't take any chances. I have to go out and find Jack before Jones does."

The young man got up from his seat, and made his way towards the door. Elizabeth suddenly grabbed his husband by the wrist firmly. Will looked back at her, startled.

"I'm not letting you go out alone again," she stated with defiance, "If you're going, you have to take me with you."

Will frowned deeper at his wife. "'Lizbeth, I can't. You're pregnant, and--"

"So what?" she shot back, fire in her eyes, "A little ship life won't hurt me. Remember, we lived on _The Black Pearl _for a long time, and I was fine!"

"But it's different now!"

"No, it isn't, Will! I was pregnant on there for a while, too! I can take care of myself and my child just fine!" A glint appeared in her eyes. "Or do you not trust me?"

The blacksmith's features suddenly softened. "Of course I trust you," he answered soothingly, "More than anyone else in the world,"

"If you trust me so much, then take me with you." Her face had become dangerously calm, like a tiger about to pounce at a moment's notice. Will knew that if he didn't agree, he would become the prey of that tiger.

Will's shoulder's sagged, dropped his head and heaved a weary sigh. "I would never forgive myself if you got hurt, Elizabeth,"

"I won't get hurt, I promise."

The young man looked up into the pregnant woman's eyes. The deep chocolate eyes held a great sincerity and care in them, as well as intelligence and defiance. In a strange way, they reminded him of Jack's eyes. Besides the two of them having the same eye hue, both of them held a great depth to their eyes in many ways. The two were worlds apart from each other, but Jack and Elizabeth both shared this trait.

Will's brow furrowed in worry, but his words suggested otherwise. "I trust you. You can come."

His wife's eyes brightened and a smile spread across her lips. She kissed Will briefly and said softly, "Thank you."

Just then, there was a rapping at the door. Startled, the couple's gaze shot towards the entrance to their home. They looked at each other in confusion; who could that be?

Will left his wife momentarily, and strode towards the door. He opened it quickly, and answered with a, "Yes?"

Seeing who was at the door, the blacksmith's eyes widened to the size of two ships' helms; his blood froze. The letter from Jones, which was still clutched in his hand, fluttered to the ground unceremoniously. His mouth became a desert of dryness and he was sure he would pass out.

"Who is it, Will?" Elizabeth's voice rang out from behind.

Will barely found the strength or courage to reply; He couldn't believe it. Was he dreaming, or had he finally gone mad? "Jack," he breathed.

---

4 months earlier…

One month had passed since the lost man had woken up on the foreign island. In that time he had been able to construct a make-shift shelter of sticks and leaves on a palm tree branch, almost like a very fragile miniature hut, barely able to cover him at all. He was beginning to doubt his 'survival skills'; he could only hope there wouldn't be a storm anytime soon or he would have to rebuild it.

By then he had walked around the entire island so many times he had lost count, and had the whole place memorized, from where he made camp to a strange area which looked like a bunch of palm trees were fried on spot to a crisp. He knew exactly were to get all of his supplies, from coconuts to fire wood.

But even with all of these preparations made, he still couldn't remember anything that had happened before waking up in this damn island he was quickly growing tired of.

He tried not to think about it, but it was hard not to during the nights in which he stared into the cindering bonfire he had lit. He would stare into the blazing topaz fire night after endless night and try to keep his mind blank or to think about what he had to do tomorrow, but the more he tried not to, to more he did.

Eventually he grew frustrated with himself one late night under the glimmering starlight. He grabbed a spare stick from beside where he sat, and started poking the bonfire, a frown spread across his grimy face. He continuously thrusted the twig into the fire, venting out his anger.

He had done this many time before, poking at the dangerous heater, but this time something different happened than just tiring himself out and falling asleep. He didn't realize it until it was too late; a spark shot out of the fire and landed on his baggy sleeve, setting it ablaze.

He yelled out in shock and pain of the sudden burning sensation. The stick jerked from his hand and into the fire, his hand possessed with agony, and shot up. He dashed towards the prison of the sea, which he had made camp nearby at the edge of the forest of palm trees. He stumbled and tripped frantically, flailing his arms about. He resembled a chicken with its head cut off. If it weren't for the present situation, the sight would have been funny.

His feet met water; he waded farther into the sea, splashing about, until he was waist high in salty water. He submerged his arm in it, the icy water immediately dousing the flame. The lost man sighed in relief. But then he saw his white baggy sleeve had been burned off completely almost to his elbow, leaving chars at the end. He growled to himself in frustration.

"Bloody terrific," he mumbled to himself.

Then he noticed; he almost didn't. Two markings crawled up the lower part of the inside of his arm. The letter 'P' was scarred in it, and a picture of a bird flying across the horizon was engraved as well.

He frowned, and brought his face closer to the tattoos, examining them closely. He hadn't noticed them until now. He traced them with his index finger, staring intently at them, trying to decipher their meanings.

"P," he muttered to himself, "What does it mean? Panda? Pineapple? Parsley? What?" He rubbed his head and chin with his index finger and thumb thoughtfully. When he felt the fabric on his forehead and beard on his chin, his eyes widened.

He moved his slightly burned arm away from his eyes' view and gazed into the ocean, desperate to make out a reflection.

When the water had finally stopped rippling, the lost man could see a fairly clear image of what must have been his face.

The face was foreign to him, yet somewhere deep inside him it hit a cord. He had a handsome face with very high cheekbones, creating a sunken look, and his chin was covered with a beard, which was braided into two strands at the end and beaded. He had a round red scar on the right side of his chin, which no hair grew from. A moustache covered the area over his slightly large nose, and his hair was a dark mess, beads and other trinkets tangled into it, along with a red head sash. But the part that struck him most were his eyes- a dark chocolate brown, confusion and fear mired in them, a black substance smeared around them and around the whole part of his face from the nose up as if he had cried a river or three. He absentmindedly wet his fingers more with saliva and tried to clean the dark mess from everywhere on his face except for directly under his optics and his eyelids.

When he was done 'cleaning himself up', he started fingering his head sash gently, when he suddenly felt pain from poking his temple. He unwrapped the cloth from his head and examined it; his bird nest hair fell unruly into his face without his sash supporting it. He dug his way through it and saw a goose egg roughly the size of a newborn baby's fist, and it hurt like hell whenever he touched it.

"So yer the culprit of m' memory loss," he muttered with a frown.

With that mystery partially solved, he looked down at his scarlet head sash once more, then back at the 'P' scar. He stared hard in concentration at the two clues to his past, trying to make a connection.

P…pirate? He thought. His eyes snapped open, realizing for the first time his had clamped them shut. The thought made his stomach dance. "I'm…" he

whispered, his tongue dry from barely speaking for the past month, "I…I can't. I'm _not_."

****

Are you sure about that?

The voice that echoed in his ears made him jump. This caused a splash in the still ocean, his reflection rippling away. In haste, he soggily stumbled out and onto dry land. It tickled as the dry sand stuck to his damp feet. He trudged with sway to camp and plopped down in front of his demonic fire, ignoring the rough feeling of sand sticking to his butt.

"I can't be a pirate," he said softly, "If I was, what am I doin' on this bloody island?"

****

There could be many reasons for that, mate.

The lost man jumped again, startled, and flashed his head back and forth. "Who's there?!" he shrieked.

****

There's no reason to be afraid. I'm simply a part of you. Your Doubt, to be exact.

"Yer my doubt?" he asked, bewildered.

****

Indeed. I'm all of your dark thoughts you have ever conjured, all of your fears.

The lost man felt his stomach leap into a tango. But then his nerves melted into immense anger. "I don't need ye, I'm in a bit of a jam as it is, so bugger off," he snarled, lying down on the cool night sand.

What am I going to do? He thought wearily.

****

Don't ask me.

He narrowed his eyes in frustration. "I wasn't, so piss off, _mate,_" he spat venomously.

****

Now, now, there's no need to be rude. Since I'm the one who knows why you're here, knows your past.

His eyes widened in shock and almost hope. "Y-ye know who I am?" he sputtered.

****

Of course I do; I've been with you since you were a small child.

"Well, what's the bloody hold-up? Tell me!"

****

Are you sure you want to know?

"'Course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

****

Think about it. There must be a reason that you don't remember anything.

"'Course there is, I got conked on me head, in case ye didn't notice, son,"

****

No, that was the trigger. Don't you think you would be surpressing them for some reason? Say, that in the back of your head you know they're so horrible that you wouldn't be able to bare them? Why else do you think you haven't remembered a thing in over a month?

"They can't be that bad, I'd rather have 'em than none at all," he growled, his patience thinning.

****

Oh, but you don't know that for sure.

"How the blazes do ye expect me to? Yer not tellin' me anythin'!"

****

You're right; I'm not telling you anything. I'm simply warning you.

"Oh just shut the hell up," he grumbled, crossing his arms and rolling onto his other side, away from the blaze.

****

Very well, but think about it. Then all was quiet, except for the crackling of the fire and the lost man's harsh breathing.

He remained still for a while, alert and waiting to see if the voice of Doubt would return. Time stopped for him as he held his breath.

When he knew Doubt was gone for now, he exhaled. The dark abyss of night around him reminded him of the emptiness inside himself. His closed his eyes, blocking the fear and sight with his own eyelids.

As he drifted off into a restless sleep, all of his dreams were of pirates and a ship with black sails- though he had no idea what it meant, it hit him hard in his stomach and twisted, much like his reflection, telling him it meant something. Even when he woke up the next day and had no memory of his visions, the feeling refused to leave him.

To Be Continued…

A/N: Much appreciation towards Jackfan2, October Sky, pendragginink, and TrappedandAnnoyed for the awesome reviews, and to anyone else who will once they finish reading this, hint hint.


	4. Chapter 4: Deja Vu

Disclaimer: Stop depressing me. I do NOT own Pirates of the Caribbean; it belongs to Disney. I do NOT own Johnny Depp, though I wish I did…he belongs to himself. The only things I own related to this fic are the plot, my character Tristan Jones, Port York, and any other OC which pops up in here, which I shall inform you of immediately in future disclaimers…oh ya, and I own the postman. No touchy. The only things I own otherwise are my POTC DVD, my dog, computer, my imagination, and a few bucks in my pocket. So no sueing, savvy?

Summary: Sequel to _Tell No Lies_. On _The Black Pearl_, things seem pretty peaceful…but peace never lasts, at least in the life of Captain Jack Sparrow. Will he be able to survive when his enemy is…himself?

**__**

Remember Me

Chapter 4

Déjà vu

Captain Jones was at the finely crafted helm of his freshly commandeered ship _The Starcraft_, guiding it peacefully with one thought in his mind- to find Jack Sparrow.

Wait, scratch that, and place the 'Captain' title in Jones' name over to Jack's. Jones didn't have a crew yet to speak of, so he couldn't quite be considered a captain. He sailed his fine ship all by his onesies, which was actually a bit difficult, seeing that it was a mighty large ship.

Still, he was starting to grow fond of the vessel. It wasn't quite like _The Majestic_, which he had foolishly blown up a time ago, but it had it's own unique rhythm to it, which the pirate was becoming rather attached to.

Darkness was beginning to set in, but Jones was barely paying attention. When he wrote that letter to Will Turner, he meant it- he was determined to find Jack. He had made far too many mistakes before, and he felt he needed to redeem himself somehow. This would at least start his list of 'good things' to do.

The past nine months for Jones had mostly been spent drinking as many jugs of rum in Tortuga he could get his hands on to drown out his miseries, and looking for a new ship. When he got word of Jack's disappearance, he stopped being picky, hastily filched _The Starcraft_, and made his way to sea, having found something meaningful to do with his life.

Jones thought back more and wished he hadn't, cursing his wandering mind; how foolish he had acted, how evil he had been. The pirate had never really thought himself 'evil' before, but that was the only word to describe it. He remembered all of the pain he had caused the now missing pirate captain, mentally and physically. And all for a lie- ironic since he hated being lied to. If he were another person, the pirate would have hated himself. But even though he wasn't, that didn't stop him from doing so.

The pirate closed his green eyes, blocking the visions of the past as much as he could. Jones had to focus on the present, which was to find his childhood friend and bring him back to his worried crew.

That was when Jones heard it-- thunder. His attention snapped back to reality, then to the sky. Then sun was still up, but it was being blocked by a horde of maliciously black clouds, caging him in from all sides. His heart started to run a mile a minute, recalling the stories of how Jack was lost to sea in the first place. Seeing a sudden flash of lightning, the pirate swirled his head from side to side. _Maybe if I can find land, I'll be alright._ A gust of cold salty wind told him that the incoming storm was starting to gain strength, and that he would have to adjust the sails, lest _The Starcraft_ become _The Sunkencraft._

The pirate dashed for the rigging and did his best to adjust the sails that a single man could. Then the rain fell. Tristan was immediately drenched, his mop of hair weighing at least ten pounds; still he persisted to pull at the rigging, determined to stay on course.

It was very difficult, considering he was doing it all by himself, and the stormy weather wasn't helping much. The pirate had to use all of his strength just to keep a hold on the rope. Until, that is when a strong gust of wind burst from behind, toppling over Jones. He released the rope and the sail went loose, barely hanging there, but far from being useful now.

Now the pirate started to panic, if he hadn't been before, but on the outside all he did was spit out a string of curses, in English, French, and Spanish, but mostly his native language French.

There was no way he could handle setting back the rigging alone, not in this treacherous weather, which made itself known once more by a strike of lightning and followed by a clap of thunder.

Jones was definitely wishing he were back in Tortuga with his jug of rum now.

The pirate leaped back to the helm, a last ditch effort to try to steer _The Starcraft_ on course. _Please, I need an island-- a hunk of rock-- anything! Why must I be punished this way? _he thought despairingly as he hastily tied himself to the helm as a precaution.

He ground his teeth and struggled to maintain control of his ship, which was going berserk beneath the pirate's fingertips.

Then, Jones saw it-- a miserable piece of land in the not too far distance.

The pirate was most definitely not a religious man, but he was willing to reconsider it at this point.

Knuckles white, Jones steered towards the island with all his might. But the storm had to have its say, winds blowing at him and thunder rumbling angrily at him. It didn't want him to escape. The pirate grinned wildly; he had other plans.

Within a tense few minutes, he was in reach of the island. Adrenaline running through his veins, he was beginning to feel remotely safe, now that he was docked on land.

But the storm wasn't finished with the pirate yet. It blew it strongest wind yet, knocking Jones over and sending him sliding across the slippery deck. Since he was tied down, though, he wasn't too worried about falling overboard. But then again, you can't worry too much about anything your head collides with the hard wood underneath you. Which is exactly what happened to Tristan, darkness sweeping over him like a wave from the storm that still gurgled around him viciously.

2 weeks earlier…

Whatever drew him to the large area on the island where it looked as if where palm trees once lived were all sliced down and the few remains painted black, the lost man did not know.

However, it did not bother him much, since being stuck on a deserted island didn't have its fair share of entertainment. He had always kept away from this part of the island since he woke up here, seeing how the pure ebony shade disturbed him a bit; but it was about time he investigated.

He stumbled dangerously as he made his way through the wreckage, the black ashes crumbling beneath his sensitive bare feet. Mesmerized by the graveyard of palm trees, his steps slowed, now inside the ring of the rumble. He stared blankly ahead as he came to a stop. This place, situation was all so familiar…

Without realizing it, he started walking again, this time in deep, exaggerated strides, his feet developing their own will. After a few gargantuan steps, he stopped and started hopping on spot; it was hollow.

Surprised by his accidental discovery, he collapsed to his knees and felt around; the ground here was wood, he had no doubt. He started banging on the fragile ground, hope leaping into his throat, and even stood up again and started to jump heavily on top of it. Suddenly the sensitive spot caved in and he fell through unceremoniously.

Stunned momentarily, he glanced around. He was stuck in a hole, thankfully not a very deep one so he could climb out easily. Other than some shelves, it was bare; whoever was here before him had cleaned out whatever was once in here. Half pitying the poor soul, half cursing his luck, he climbed out and sat down cross-legged at the edge of the hole, defeated. Staring at the black space, he felt himself wishing that he hadn't even come here, his miniscule supply of hope draining from him.

****

Don't give up so easily, mate, and try looking around to your left.

Doubt had returned. Frowning, but otherwise unfazed, now used to Doubt's sudden coming and going, the lost man inquired "An' why should I listen to ye? 'Thought ye were 'posed to discourage me, not help,"

****

I'm feeling rather generous, since I'm a part of you and even I can only stand so much misery coming from you.

"Well, that's news to me, Mr. I'm-not-tellin'-ye-anythin'-'cause-I'm-a-jackass." He paused for a minute. "'Sides, why should I trust ye?" He could only remember too clearly the last time he listened to Doubt, which was 3 weeks ago, and the result was very pretty. He had earned a purple shiner on his left eye because of it.

****

Well, what have you got to lose? (My eye, the lost man thought bitterly) **_A bit of your unlimited time stuck on this island? I'm sure you'll like what you find…_**

Slightly unnerved by it's comments and how tempting they sounded, he answered back hastily, "An' how would ye know I'll like it?"

****

We've been here before, remember?

"Gee, isn't that the reason I'm stuck here, I _don't_?" he snarled irritably.

****

It seems I've hit a soft spot; my apologies. But I assure you, we've been here before, twice in fact. And if you dig around in the sand a bit to the left, you'll have a pleasant surprise waiting just for you.

Sighing in defeat, he walked to his left, and feeling like an idiot for listening to Doubt once again, fell to his knees. He began groping around in the sand like a blind man, digging his grubby hands underneath and around.

Suddenly he felt a warm metal loop. Startled, he grasped firmly onto it and pulled upwards, his body knowing exactly what to do without notifying his brain.

The wooden door lifted up, revealing another hole in the ground, hot sand spilling everywhere; the lost man had to squint his eyes to make sure he didn't get any specks of it in his eyes.

He peered down into the hole, shelves and barrels all around able to be detected, but this time they were completely filled. He unceremoniously jumped down and picked up the nearest bottle on a shelf; they were completely filled with bottle after endless bottle. After further inspection, he saw they were filled with a deep brown liquid, the sun highlighting it beautifully. On the corked jug one dusty word was written across it.

"R-r-uuu…mmm. Rum?" the word was very familiar to him, as it's meaning suddenly clicked.

****

Always have a backup handy, mate, especially when dealing with rum caches.

To Be Continued…

A/N: puts on army helmet I know, I know, _another_ cliffhanger? But I thought I should at least get this chapter out since school for me is starting in two days and I have no idea how much time I will have to write more. But I _will_ finish this! (Eventually.) I shouldAs always, much appreciation towards October Sky, Lunatic, Taurus-Sparrow-0506, and jackfan2 for the kind reviews. :D


	5. Chapter 5: Parting of the Ways

Disclaimer: Stop depressing me. I do NOT own Pirates of the Caribbean; it belongs to Disney. I do NOT own Johnny Depp, though I wish I did…he belongs to himself. The only things I own related to this fic are the plot, my character Tristan Jones, Port York, and any other OC which pops up in here, which I shall inform you of immediately in future disclaimers…oh ya, and I own the postman. No touchy. The only things I own otherwise are my POTC DVD, my dog, computer, my imagination, and a few bucks in my pocket. So no sueing, savvy?

Summary: Sequel to _Tell No Lies_. On _The Black Pearl_, things seem pretty peaceful…but peace never lasts, at least in the life of Captain Jack Sparrow. Will he be able to survive when his enemy is…himself?

Sequel to . On , things seem pretty peaceful…but peace never lasts, at least in the life of Captain Jack Sparrow. Will he be able to survive when his enemy is…himself?**__**

Remember Me

Chapter 5

Parting of the Ways

Later on in the night, the lost man could be seen from near the secluded island's shoreline, dancing moronically around an open flame. Empty rum bottles decorated the shoreline, the light from the fire sparkling on the glass and in the calm ocean water like the sun.

"La-la-la, I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts…big as yer head…err, something or another and the like of that…" he belted out drunkenly and dramatically the song completely off rhythm and awful enough to make hounds howl in agony in the otherwise hauntingly quiet night air. He scooped up a stray bottle by his bare sandy foot and tried to gulp some down. When nothing came out he tried to shake out any drops. Dry as the sand he grazed on. As a result of shaking himself, he toppled over, giggling fitfully.

"La-deeee-laaaa…what the 'ell am I singin'…yo ho. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me--" His eyes snapped open, not realizing he had closed them in his stupor. Why was he singing about pirates? _I'm not a pirate, I shouldn't be singing about them. _He thought wistfully, his heart thumping with anxiety, feeling strangely like he was denying himself a ticket off the bloody island.

He sat up quickly, feeling quite lightheaded but definitely more sober. He looked down at his feet and wiggled his toes absentmindedly. After a few moments, his throbbing made him feel restless, so he grabbed an extra twig for the blazing fire. He started scribbling in the sand, testing out his 'writing skills'. He printed out shakily with his dominant right hand, 'Get me off this island, I'm going nuts'. Or, at least he attempted to. It turned out more like 'Gimme zum pie, wit lots o nutz'.

****

Really, I could have told you that you didn't know how to write; you can barely read the word 'Rum' for god's sake.

He was quite used to hearing Doubt's voice circling around his head by now like a poltergeist that wouldn't stop haunting him, but it didn't stop him from becoming slightly irritated. "Thanks for the heads up on that, _mate_," he grumbled sarcastically, flopping down on the sand unceremoniously.

****

Now is that any way to talk? I did _give you your rum, after all._

did 

"Sorry, but in my present situation, this is 'bout as polite as I'm gonna get," he sneered, then paused. "'Sides, I still don't trust ye."

**Aw, that hurts way down deep, son. Here I am, trying to help you, and you take advantage of my kindness and blow it up in my face. Fine, I won't tell you then.**

This caught his attention. "Tell me what?"

**My lips are sealed, 'long as you continue with that brash attitude.**

Flustered, he growled out loud like an furious lion. "Fine. 'M sorry. _Please _tell me?" He felt himself gag on the word 'please'.

**Well, that's a ****bit _of an improvement. If you really want to know, I'll tell you…do you wonder why this place is so familiar? Why you felt you _had _to go to the rum cache earlier today?_**

"Ah, you are so-- stop bloody messin' with me head! Yer tellin' me, yer not tellin' me, won't shut the 'ell up, lips glued together. Make up yer bloody mind already!" Over the past couple of months, Doubt had not ceased to aggravate the lost man and make his head spin.

**No seriously, I'm going to tell you. Not everything, mind you, but at least an explanation of why you're here. I don't exactly want to be yelled at all of the time for holding back information. So here goes…you were marooned here.**

He raised an eyebrow. "What?" he snorted coldly.

**You heard me.**

"Yes, I did, but what makes ye expect I'll believe ye?"

**Well, what else is there to believe? Your stuck on an island, all by yourself with only your thoughts to keep you company. Not only that, but you can't remember a bloody thing, mate. If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. Nobody wanted you, so they dumped you on this damn island.**

The lost man frowned deeply. "But why would someone want to get rid of me in the first place?"

**Most likely because you're annoying. Honestly, I've been a part of you since forever, so I should know.**

"I don't believe it. Not comin' from ye."

**Believe what you want, but that's all you're going to hear from me if you won't even listen. It amuses me seeing you try to figure it out all by yourself anyway.**

With that, Doubt departed from his immediate thoughts. The lost man lay where he was, staring up at the sky thoughtfully. The stars winked down at him, and he could hear them taunting him from their freedom up in the air in the breeze that circled him and the god forsaken spit of land he was stuck on. Doubt must've been trying to trick him again. That was why he showed him where to rum was, so that he could gain his trust and make him drunk, thus have more open ears. But he wouldn't let that work. If he had too, he'd ship the rum out to sea to make sure he didn't fall under Doubt's allurement. He refused to listen to his inner musing's reasoning.

He closed his burnt butterfly eyes to block out the sight of the sky mocking him. He had to get off this island, away from his Doubt, away before he went insane with loneliness…

He suddenly began to feel the sensation of a slow rocking, like a baby in a cradle, and he heard the soft creaking of wood singing in his ears. His eyes fluttered open, and he realized that he was on a ship, finely carved wood surrounding him on all sides.

Except for in front of him. In front of him lay the vast ocean that boxed him in like a present on the island he was stuck on…but now, he didn't seem to be. What is going on? _He wondered. _

"And this would be the parting of the ways, old friend," An ancient mocking voice drawled from behind.

He looked behind himself and saw a man far older and taller than himself with a face that looked as if it had been gouged several times with a knife. But even with his ugly face, he looked smug and wore slightly dirty clothing that looked like it could have been fine quality at one point, but also of which a pirate would wear. Seeing the crew of nasty faces behind him and a rough looking monkey on his shoulder, he realized that he was_ faced with a pirate crew. They didn't look like they liked him much, either. _

"I hope you won't mind if we 'borrow' your ship permanently, seeing you won't need it when you're stuck on that island," The man sneered, pointing with a tarnished sword in front of the lost man. He looked forward again and saw not too far away the same island he was stuck on before. His heart sank, and did his head. He saw that he was about to walk the plank.

"Ye do realize that mutiny is 'bout the lowest thing a pirate can do, worse than killin' someone," a voice that sounded strikingly like his own possessed his mouth in a soft tone, "It's against the code, mate." He looked back at the crew, his heart throbbing from the pain of betrayal. He should have known better than to trust any of them. And yet he was not surprised. The only betrayal the really hurt him was Bootstrap. Bootstrap? His eyes wandered to one man; he was a tall one with dark hair and was fairly handsome in a way unlike himself. He noticed he wouldn't make eye contact with him.

Whether this was Bootstrap or not, it didn't matter. All he knew was he could trust anyone anymore.

"You forget, Captain,_ that we are but humble pirates," the older man sneered back, "The code is merely there for decoration. But right now, I fear it's time for you to go. Say hello to hell for me." A jeer from the pirates around him, and before he realized it, he was toppling over the plank, over the ship and descending towards the ocean, closer, closer, until it swallowed him like a hungry shark…_

What is going on? wasCaptain, 

To lost man awoke in a cold sweat, thrashing like a fish out of water. He gained control of his movements and lay on the beach, panting with a pain in his breast. The same ache from his dream in his heart lingered, and he felt salty tears well up in his eyes. But he would not let them fall. He now knew that he was completely alone and going to stay that way. No one wanted him. Well, he didn't want them now. He'd be fine all on his own, with no one to betray him or hurt him.

**What did I tell you, mate?**

Well, _almost_ completely alone.

To Be Continued…

**A/N:** A thousand apologies for the long wait! I've had very little inspiration for this story, but I felt I had to kick myself into gear for it. ; Anyway, reviews are appreciated, and could be considered a birthday present, since mine's a week from today…ehehe. And hopefully there won't be so long of a wait for the next chapter. ;


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